The Leopard, by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa | Review

This is a novel about impermanence, prestige, and tradition. Tomasi's only novel, 'The Leopard' is exquisitely written, transcending what we consider as modern classical literature. Predominantly set in 1860 as Garibaldi's forces landed on Sicily, Tomasi writes in a manner that would not have been out of place during the 19th century. The way in which Tomasi captures the allure of the Salina family and reaches the heart of Don Fabrizio's psyche is sublime. It is how Tomasi depicts the beauty and harshness of the Sicilian landscape which makes the novel so complete.

Tomasi deftly conveys Sicily as vibrant yet possessing a ‘sense of death’, a quality which leaves a poignant and enduring impression on us. Not only did Tomasi draw upon a long history of deadly battles which took place on the dry and arid Sicilian hills, he also juxtaposed this harshness with the vitality and opulence available to the Salina family, most notably encapsulated by their palace at Donnafugata. At Donnafugata, we are immersed in a world of mysticism, romance and nostalgia. Tomasi's poetic prose and his economy with words allow us to fall in love with this world immediately. It is thus not surprising that when the novel ends, we feel as if we have digested a novel of supreme length, not in fact one consisting of a mere 230 pages.

Tomasi's rigorous psychological examinations are not exclusive to Don Fabrizio. Another central character is the Prince's cousin, Tancredi, who goes off to fight for Garibaldi and ingratiates himself amongst the Salina clan at Donnafugata after becoming engaged to the mayor's daughter, Angelica. It is her supreme beauty and youthful innocence which adds a glowing, colourful quality to the rooms of the palatial Donnafugata. Angelica is also symbolic of how the Salina family dynasty is taken into a new era of modernity, backed up by the political implications of Garibaldi’s invasion.

Although Don Fabrizio has a softer side to his character and is in many ways the conventional patriarch, 'exuding dignified benevolence from every pore', the introduction of Angelica is infused with a sensuality that adds layers of intrigue to the story: 'it was a good thing that Angelica had emerged from the shadows of Donnafugata to show these Palermitans what a really lovely woman was like.' The subtle romantic tensions which lace the novel’s smooth prose thus add an opulent dramatic momentum to the plot, set among a backdrop of aristocratic balls in grand Sicilian palaces.

The omniscient narration gives the novel a learned reflection on events and addresses the ephemeral aspiration of youth with a modest acknowledgment of the realities which come with age. This is predominantly seen through the eyes of Don Fabrizio as he observes the infatuation of Tancredi towards Angelica and looks on with a nostalgic yearning for the sensuality of youth. Tomasi presents a rounded and imperious portrait of the Prince, but also individually develops the other characters within the entire ensemble superbly, even the fortunes of Father Pirrone, who is afforded his own chapter.

This is a novel which has qualities to be admired by all readers. The beauty with which Tomasi wrote cannot be denied and it is right that he is today placed alongside legendary Italian novelists. How Tomasi told a story and captured an era so accurately is tinged with regret considering that this novel was published posthumously as his only work of fiction. Nonetheless, the novel’s splendour is worthy of classic status and we have to be eternally grateful of its accessibility today and its authority as a historical novel.

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